


Fragile

by Smutmaker_heartbreaker



Category: Wonder Woman (2017), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 12:35:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smutmaker_heartbreaker/pseuds/Smutmaker_heartbreaker
Summary: He’s just human—a fragile, mortal human—yet he touches her as if she’s made of glass.Continuation of The Scene.





	Fragile

He’s just human—a fragile, mortal human—yet he touches her as if she’s made of glass. The hands that run through her hair are gentle, and his lips are softer than she could ever have imagined. She’s an ancient being who could break him in half without blinking, yet he’s completely unafraid. He still touches her likes she’s the most precious thing in the world.  

He pulls back for a moment, staring at her as if trying to memorize every single detail of her face. His eyes, bluer and clearer than the oceans of Themyscira, seem to see right through her. He’s had that look in them ever since he closed the door to their room. Hunger, need—and most of all, awe. Whatever he sees in her, he seems to find worthy of worshipping. A trembling breath escapes her lips. He’s just human, but when he looks at her like that, she’s as vulnerable as he is.

His thumbs, rough and calloused, gently stroke her cheeks. His hands are larger than hers, and his shoulders are wider. It’s different from what she’s used to, but it’s not a bad kind of different. She likes the contradictions of it—a powerful, lethal soldier with countless blood-drenched battles on his résumé who’s still capable of looking at another person like this. Of touching another person like this.

“Sometimes, I can barely believe you’re real.” A crooked smile lights up his face. “Diana. My angel.”

Her heart skips a beat at the pure adoration in his voice. His eyes fall to her lips, but before he can kiss her again, she kisses him first. Hard. He answers it in kind, his hands once again finding their way to her hair before he begins to trail kisses down her neck. His stubble tickles her skin—another difference she can’t say she dislikes. When he looks up at her with an obvious question in his eyes, she answers it by pulling off his jacket, using more force than finesse. He lets out a short laugh, and then his lips are once again on her skin.

She soon finds that she doesn’t dislike the feeling of his stubble tickling the skin of her thighs, either.   


End file.
